


Guilt

by nevercomestheday



Category: Reservoir Dogs (1992)
Genre: Blood, Blood Loss, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Guilt, Guns, Gunshot Wounds, Hallucinations, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Self-Defense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-16
Updated: 2016-10-16
Packaged: 2018-08-22 19:41:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8298040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nevercomestheday/pseuds/nevercomestheday
Summary: The real reason Freddy shot Blonde.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Finally, a new fic! I busted out of my writer's block for a little bit and came up with a (very short) fic. Hope you enjoy <3
> 
> Characters are not mine, they belong to Quentin Tarantino.

He comes to sometime between the radio being turned on and Blonde starting to dance. 

 

His first panic isn’t the cold realization of the torture scene playing out to his left, but that Larry is no longer by his side.

 

He recognizes the cop, but can’t place a name. Time is moving in slow-motion, and the room is an echo chamber of screams and groans bouncing off the walls. Everything is swaying.

 

Somewhere in the distance, a voice that sounds familiar is telling him to keep still. Holdaway? It might be; Freddy can’t tell. Even Blonde’s voice right in front of him sounds like it could be on the radio across the room.

 

Freddy lets himself believe he’s playing dead not because movement would be agony, but because he’s still deep undercover and can’t react to anything without arousing suspicion. At this point, though, he’s having a very hard time remembering who he’s supposed to be. 

 

He just knows he isn’t with Larry, and with the wails of that cop whose name he just can’t place as background music, Freddy tries desperately to remember why.

 

The screams get louder, pleading now, but all he can hear is that voice in his head. It’s far away and almost dreamy;  _ what the hell is it saying? _ It takes a lot of energy just to focus on something other than bleeding.

 

_ What you deserve… This is what you deserve… Betrayer… Betrayer… Betrayer… _

It takes all of his strength not to call out to it. He answers back, but he can’t be sure if it’s in his head or out loud.

 

_ Larry? Larry, is that you? Larry…? _

 

_ You deserve this… Traitor…  Betrayer!  _ It’s almost definitely Larry, but sounds angrier and more frantic than he’s ever heard the real Larry speak.

 

_ You’re a fucking traitor! You deserve what you got! You’re gonna die here alone and it’s still too good for the likes of you! _

 

He can see Larry’s face now, dark and shrouded but burned into Freddy’s eyelids. It takes a few tries, but he manages to open them just slightly. 

 

Suddenly Larry is sitting in the chair, the cop nowhere to be seen. He’s begging for his life, face somehow stoic and cool though the words Freddy hears are drenched in panic.

 

Blonde stands twelve feet tall, dousing Larry in gasoline. It’s a sight that snaps Freddy out of his guilt for just a second- maybe he still has a chance to redeem himself. 

 

Just as Blonde pulls out his lighter, Freddy drudges his arm up with his pistol in hand and unloads what’s left of his clip into Blonde, sending him to the ground with a loud crash that shakes Freddy’s whole body. 

 

Nearly in tears from the pain and the shock, he feels his bottom lip quiver as he holds his gun up, watching to make sure Blonde is really dead. 

 

He goes to look at Larry, ready to drag his dying body up if only to get close enough to touch his hand, but Larry is gone. In his place is the uniformed officer, crying and bleeding and absolutely drowning in gasoline. 

 

Freddy wants to be mad, but he’s too exhausted to figure out what’s real and what’s not. It’s clear something is a dream, or a hallucination, or  _ who the fuck cares- _ at this moment, he’s too apathetic and drained to try to piece it together. 

 

So he plays along and talks to the cop. 

 

Larry will be back soon anyway, whether it’s through the door or in the chair again.

  
Hopefully this time, he won’t remind Freddy of just how guilty he should feel right now.


End file.
